


Myself

by SpaceshipsAreCool



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Post Softbroom episode, Sub!Hecate, dom!ada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceshipsAreCool/pseuds/SpaceshipsAreCool
Summary: In the aftermath of the personality changing potion, Hecate tries to hide from the one person with the power to help her deal with the emotional fallout.





	Myself

Hecate’s steps faltered as she turned down one empty corridor, and then another, her feet carrying her away from the voices and life that filled the more populated areas of the school. She could transfer, if she dared, but that would leave a trace of magic. One that Ada, so attuned to Hecate’s unique signature, would be able to follow without a second thought.

 

And Hecate couldn’t have that now, couldn’t let Ada see what the events of the day had done to her.

 

She wasn’t supposed to remember it, the spell, her actions under its influence. She wasn’t supposed to have been able to watch from inside her own skin as she swept through the halls of Cackle’s Academy with chaos in her wake. At another time it might not have been so bad, if Ada had been there to pick her up, if Ada hadn’t been off fighting for her own self so many miles away. Maybe even if Ada had come home safe and sound, her position secure and confidence renewed.

 

But that hadn’t happened. Almost nothing that was supposed to have happened had.

 

Hecate stumbled again, the memories threatening to drag her under, but she managed to stay upright just long enough to reach her destination. Her fingers were trembling, moving without their usual clear purpose as they sought out the small notch in the wall that would open the secret door. Their betrayal sent a wave of shame through her, a sign of her own weakness in the face of duress. But then she was slipping, no, _falling_ , through the entrance into the dark windowless room on the other side.

 

Her knees hit the floor and she took a sort of perverse pleasure in the sharp crack of pain that reverberated up her legs, followed by another as the rough stone scraped her unprotected palms and tore at her skin.

 

 _“I’ll have to fix that later_. _”_ The thought was automatic, a fleeting remembrance that Ada liked her hands, that Ada would be upset if she knew. But not now. For now Hecate lowered herself the remainder of the way to the floor, curling into a tight ball and clutching her hands close until the sting, the punishment, took up residence next to her heart.

 

Because she _did_ remember, had been conscious the entire time. Even if she was pretending otherwise. It was a leftover side effect of being trapped in the painting at the end of last year. Though her stay had been short, part of the brutality of Agatha’s spell was a thin layer of protective magic designed to keep the recipient’s mind alert, forcing them to witness everything without the ability to interfere. It was a part that was absent when the spell was cast once more to trap Agatha and Miss Gullet, altered to instead send them into a blissful sleep.

 

That had come after Mildred had led the students in undoing Agatha’s work, but those same students had been firmly fixated on combating dark spells. As a result Agatha’s protective spell on Hecate had slipped through, and when the personality changing potion took effect, it had reactivated and kept her real mind and self very much present and aware.

 

A choked sob escaped Hecate’s throat, echoing around the tiny room. It might have been a storage closet once, but when she had discovered it by mistake during her first term at Cackle’s, it had already been years in disuse. It had become her place then, a spot she could flee to to protect herself when the emotions spinning through the air became too painful to bare. But she hadn’t used it in a long time. Not since Ada had found her.

 

Because that’s what Ada had done. Found her that is. Those eyes had seen through the layers and high collared dress, through the movements and expressions calculated to keep as much space between herself and others as she could. Ada had realized that Hecate wasn’t cold, that she was a fire. That the extreme levels of self-control she imposed on herself were designed to protect others from how much damage she could do if she became overwhelmed and lashed out.

 

Ada had helped her with that, become the one person she trusted to hold her when she couldn’t hold herself, the one person who could take that control from her while making her feel safe.

 

But Hecate was still careful, especially when the castle was filled with students. It was why Agatha had been able to fool her that first time, or the second Hecate supposed, depending on how you counted Agatha’s various schemes and their relative success. It was something that would never have been able to happen if Hecate hadn’t insisted on keeping her walls built so high during term, but in the aftermath she had been working on finding a different balance, on lowering those walls small stone by small stone. There were people other than Ada that had seen her smile now, those that were starting to figure out that she did care.

 

Agatha had never had a hope of fooling her when she came back once again, though Agatha had still gotten the better of her. But Ada had been there then, at her side, her magic surrounding Hecate and Hecate’s surrounding her. When it was over it was something they had gone through together, could recover from together, and even if Hecate hadn’t helped, she hadn’t directly harmed or tried to harm anything either.

 

Not like this time.

 

There had been laughter, amusement at her predicament, but that was something she could forgive them for. Even with recent efforts no one but Ada knew her well enough to see what was really going on. The observers all thought the spell was changing her from an uptight entity into a fun loving friend, but that wasn’t it at all. The truth was, was that the spell had made her cruel. Not in the way that some might think her now, with her rigidity and her discipline, because those traits were simply cosmetic. No, this cruelty was something else, a desire to destroy.

 

That wasn’t all though, because the spell was only able to alter one core facet of a person’s personality, leaving Hecate with both her brilliance, and her ability to calculate for the best advantage. So from inside the little protected bubble in her mind, the real Hecate had been helpless to do anything but listen to those other Hecate’s thoughts racing by, thoughts that had understood exactly how to play on the expectations of others and act the fool in order to achieve her real aim.

 

And that, more than anything else, was what had sent her into the state she was in right now; the knowledge that a part of her had laughed gleefully when she believed she was about to succeed in eradicating a place that had become a home to so many.

 

Thankfully, the impending triumph had distracted her enough and she hadn’t recognized the potion she had given Miss Doomstone in time, thinking only of adding more disruptive force by dosing her with whatever flawed student’s project happened to be at hand. But the outcome of the inspection could do nothing to change the fact that those feelings, that darkness… they had been inside of her.

 

That to some degree, they were still inside of her.

 

At least Miss Doomstone wouldn’t remember—not like Hecate did—but Hecate was responsible for inflicting that potion on someone else, and even now that she was back to herself, she had no intention of offering the antidote.

 

Cruelty might be a very small part of who she truly was, but it was a part she would call upon if it meant protecting those she loved. And the pain of admitting that had caused fractures that were rapidly becoming more.

 

It was also a pain that her darker self would have rejoiced in. That version hadn’t realized what it was giving Miss Doomstone, but it had known what she herself had been drinking when she downed the other vial. It was well aware of what Hecate would experience if she regained herself just moments too late to save the academy. It hadn’t come to that, but that Hecate would be glad that it had left her with these other wounds.

 

“Ada,” she whispered, shivering from the cold in this forgotten room as she pictured the older woman’s face in her mind. It appeared before her, but the smile it usually bore, the softness, even the smirk that only Hecate ever saw, the one that sent chills of a different nature up her spine, were absent. Instead it was the worried, almost defeated expression Ada had worn today in the great hall. The unmistakable loss in her eyes as she had told them all that she was no longer the headmistress of Cackle’s Academy.

 

Hecate curled into herself even tighter, her nails drawing fresh blood from her palms as she tried to escape the _need_ that vibrated through her soul at the thought of the other woman. Ada could save her from this, she knew. Ada could take her apart, could pierce into her so deeply that Hecate no longer felt like she was made up of so many different pieces. Ada could claim every inch of her, only putting her back together again when she was once more just Hecate. Just _Ada’s_ Hecate.

 

She wanted to reach for her, to beg Ada to come rescue her in a way no one else ever could, but Hecate’s couldn’t. Not this time. Not when Ada was hurting herself. Not when she deserved a deputy who could be strong, who could be anything but this pathetic, broken thing she was now.

 

Hecate was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice it as first, the small tug on the watch chain, the sensation that normally made her instantly both hyper aware and forgetful of all else at the same time. But by the time she noticed it, it had already started to transform, the chain tightening even as its links widened and flattened.

 

Her body jerked into motion, limbs scrambling as she sought in vain to pull herself together, but the chain was closing tightly around her throat, the watch itself ceasing to tick as it became a pendant of an entirely different kind. One that could only mean one thing.

 

That Ada was coming.

 

That Ada was coming for _her_.

 

The door swung open while Hecate was still on her knees, hair and clothes disheveled, and she cringed away as if hiding her face could somehow keep Ada from realizing.

 

“Did you think I didn’t know about this place, Hecate? That I wouldn’t guess this is where you’d come? Until the moment they physically remove me from the premises, this is still my academy, and I know everything that exists under its domain.” The voice had a sharpness to it that most wouldn’t recognize as Ada Cackle, a command that Hecate found herself wanting to respond to even as she knew how selfish that would be. “Everything, including what transpired in my absence.”

 

Hecate’s shoulders sagged, of course it had been inevitable, but she wasn’t willing to give up just yet. She started to twist her fingers in the motion that would transfer her away. It was probably futile considering Ada would be able to track it easily, but she had to try.

 

A hand closed over her wrist before she could finish the spell, a grip that was somehow both gentle and unyielding.

 

“Hecate.”

 

Hecate knew what that voice wanted, but still, she resisted, ducking her head furhter and pretending not to hear.

 

“Hecate, look at me.” This time the command was accompanied by a firm pressure on her chin, not enough to physically force her to move, but enough to give additional weight to the words.

 

She could end this now, utter a safe word that would make Ada step away, but through everything—her running, her hiding, even her trying to transfer somewhere else—she also knew that deep down she had wanted Ada to find her, wanted to face such absolution.

 

“Hecate.”

 

Once more and Hecate broke, shuddering as she raised her eyes to meet those of the woman standing over her.

 

“Good girl,” the voice softened, the hand holding Hecate’s chin shifting to stroke her cheek. Hecate couldn’t help but move into the touch, hating herself for pushing Ada into this roll tonight of all nights even as she did.

 

Ada must have seen that last thought in her expression, and in an instant the gentle movement became harsh, fingers tangling in her hair and yanking her to her feet, ignoring Hecate’s sharp cry of protest. The next second found Hecate pressed flush against the wall, one of Ada’s hands still in her hair, the other now pinning her captive wrist to the wall next to her.

 

“No,” the growl was low, Ada’s eyes already dark, but in a way that was so very different from the darkness that was currently consuming Hecate from the inside out. “You will not think like that, do you understand me?”

 

Hecate tried to nod, but it was a lie, one as transparent to Ada as to herself. She flinched when Ada moved her hand from Hecate’s hair to settle around her throat, fingers splayed to hold Hecate completely in her power. The new position tightened the collar—the true form of the watch Hecate wore around her neck at all times—against her skin, and caused the interwoven initials of Ada’s name hanging from the center to press into her.

 

“Do you remember when I gave you this? What I promised you that night?”

 

 _“Yes,”_ Hecate wanted to say, but the word caught, refusing to pass her lips, as if afraid it would somehow set her free. It was a freedom she had no right to crave.

 

Another time Ada might push her, might drag the confession out of her, but tonight Hecate’s silence was met with a single, reassuring brush of a thumb along the side of her neck. Just once, so Hecate would know that it was alright.

 

“I promised that I would look after you.”

 

No. Hecate still resisted, even as the memories rose up and started to claw away at those from earlier today.

 

“I promised you that even if something were to come to pass that resulted in my departure from this school, that even then I would remain by your side. That even then I would still be your headmistress.”

 

Hecate did remember that, could never forget it. But-

 

“And do you remember what you promised me? What you offered in return when you accepted?” Ada’s voice interrupted her thoughts, but she struggled not to listen.  

 

“Hecate!” A burst of power flowed up Ada’s arm, burning and impossible to avoid as the metal links of the collar began to glow, responding to Ada’s touch and channeling her magic through Hecate’s body.

 

It raced along her skin, healing the torn flesh of her hands and covering her with a protective, possessive, barrier until she could feel nothing but Ada. Until there was no place for anyone or anything else to creep in.

 

“Do you remember?”

 

She did. With Ada over her, through her, _in_ her, she did. Because Hecate may not have ever used words, not the way Ada had, but it had been implicit in her every action.

 

Or it had been, and would have remained as such, if she hadn’t tried so hard to run.

 

And now she could see it, the shred of insecurity in Ada’s eyes, the shred that was causing Ada to finally ask for it from her own lips after all these years.

 

Her headmistress would not be denied.

 

“Myself.” It was barely audible, but it hung between them all the same, and in response Ada’s grip became almost imperceptibly tighter, yet infinitely more secure.

 

In a world of people leaving—a mother who threatened to rescind her love if Ada disappointed her, a sister who was forever on the verge of another betrayal, and even students that Ada gave her heart and soul to, but who eventually all moved on with only the occasional glimpse back—Hecate’s simple gift of her full self, forever and always, was the most potent love spell she could ever brew.

 

It was also perhaps the only thing Ada had to anchor herself right now, the school having become another name to add to that list.

 

And so Hecate said it again. And again. And again.

 

Hecate said it until the whisper had become a scream, until Ada’s eyes were blazing with something only Hecate could give to her, and until everything but the two of them and what they meant to each other had been banished to realms affair.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi TWW fandom! This is my first attempt at a Hackle fic, but I'm hoping to write more soon and start developing a better grasp of these characters. I'm also on tumblr (under the same name), so feel free to come say hi there :)


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